


Indomitable

by IrelandSpades



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, Manipulative Dumbledore, Oral Sex, Powerful Harry, Reincarnated Hogwarts Founders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrelandSpades/pseuds/IrelandSpades
Summary: Harry gave up. Ready to make the ultimate sacrifice. A certain sacrifice that will create strong ripples of raw magic. An action that deserves to be rewarded.





	1. Chapter 1

_We are at our most powerful the moment we no longer need to be... - Eric Micha’el Leventhal_

(!)(!)(!)

Severus Snape’s words echoed in his mind as he raced down the hall.

_“...I don’t want to see you in my office ever again! You deserve everything the Dark Lord has planned for you and more!”_

His mind was still reeling from what he had seen in the pensieve. His father and Sirius were bullies. The same sort of bullies that had tormented him in primary school. There was a good chance that he himself would have been the type victimized by James and Sirius’ brand of pranking.

Taking random turns in the dungeons, he eventually came to stop in a dark hallway, pressing his palms against the cool stone. Gasping for air, he pressed the top of his head against the stone, hoping that if he pushed hard enough he could rid himself of the traitorous memories while he stared at his trainers. His father and godfather were bullies of the worst kind...and he looked just like his father. Everyone was always commenting that he was like his father; the looks, the natural Quidditch talent, the same magical skills. Many people, including Sirius, only saw James Potter when they looked at him.  The rest could only see the _Boy Who Lived_ ; no one simply saw Harry.

“Did a lion get lost in the snake pit?”

Harry jerked away from the wall and turned to face the voice, quickly pulling his wand. Malfoy stood a few feet away backed up with his small group of cronies from Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad; a total of five . Harry was grossly outnumbered and in unfriendly territory with no obvious or easy escape. Keeping his wand drawn but pointing towards the floor, he held up one hand.

“I don’t want any trouble, Malfoy. I’ll just leave and go back to my tower,” Harry said, hoping against hope that Malfoy would choose to act out of his norm.

“Really? Do you think you can just come and go anywhere you please, Potter? That you can trespass in our territory and still walk away safely? And they call me arrogant.”

“Malfoy, I truly don’t want any trouble. Just go on your way and I’ll go mine.”

“I don’t think so. You don’t have Granger or Weasley here to cover your back. I think you need to be taught a lesson about what happens to solo lions when they stray from the pride,” Malfoy snapped, his entourage giving him extra courage.

As though in slow motion, Harry watched three separate wands raising towards him. _Deserve everything_ , a phantom voice whispered through his mind. His bully of a father and godfather. The Umbitch and her blood quill. Suddenly being the third wheel, watching your two best friends be in a relationship while pretending not to be in a relationship to not hurt him. Life long banishment from Quidditch. The scars from the Dursleys. Scars from the Basilisk. _The-Boy-Who-Lived_ , destined to save them all. Why should he continue to live if this was all that awaited him?

All of these thoughts raced through Harry’s mind in the space of one heartbeat; it was all the time he needed to make his decision. Just as he saw the first spell’s magic erupt towards him, he relaxed his fingers, letting his wand fall to the stone floor.

He was done.

(!)(!)(!)

Poppy Pomfrey stepped back to appreciate her newly organized shelves. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, she relaxed, beginning to rub at her lower back and rolling her neck to ease the tight muscles. Suddenly having the urge to take a quick walk and stretch her legs, she cast a notification spell over the infirmary before leaving. It was just past curfew and the halls were blessedly silent as she lengthened her gait to stretch her muscles. Giving no thought to her destination, her feet led her down random halls until she found herself in the dungeons, which was a surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time her walks took her into the bowels of the castle. She was turning to head back to the infirmary when her nose caught a faint but unforgettable scent. She had been a healer all her adult life, she knew the odor of spilled blood. Grabbing her wand, she quickly cast a strong _Lumos_ and started searching. It didn’t take long, as soon as the charm was cast she could see the light reflected back from something nearby. Hurrying forward, she gasped at the pool of blood still gathering in the dips and hollows of the ancient stones.

“No,” she murmured when she found the source of the spilled blood.

Her heart broke over the sight of one of her favorite students splayed brokenly over the dark stones. His deathly pale skin was a stark contrast against his blood stained shirt and dark hair.

“Oh Harry.”

Summoning Pimsy, her preferred infirmary elf, she quickly did what she could with her wand. Seeing Harry’s wand nearby, she reached across the boy to snag the slim piece of wood, tucking it safely into her apron pocket. The elf popped into existence as Poppy cast a _Patronus._

Turning to the elf, Poppy ordered sharply, “Pimsy, take us to the infirmary.” She gripped Harry’s shoulder firmly before reaching out to the elf.

A small hand gripped hers and they disappeared, reappearing a moment later in the infirmary. Pimsy had aimed perfectly as Potter already rested on a bed, the blood sluggishly soaking into the linens.

“I need Dittany and several Blood-Replenishing potions.”

As soon as the potion and vial were in her hands, she spelled the potion into Potter’s stomach before treating the visible wounds with Dittany. The door at the end of the infirmary opened suddenly and Pomona Sprout waddled in, clad in her night clothes.

“Poppy, I came at once when I received your summons. What’s wrong?”

“It seems that Harry Potter was attacked in the hallways. I need your help. Can you finish with the Dittany while I check for other spells or hexes?”

Pomona nodded, accepting the vial gingerly. She grimaced when she saw the extent of damage that had been done. Poppy spelled another Blood-Replenishing potion into Potter and both women worked frantically to repair the damage. It was another hour before Poppy stepped back; she hesitated to say they were out of the woods, but she was cautiously hopeful. Pomona summoned two chairs and collapsed in one while Poppy changed Potter’s ruined clothing and the soiled bedding into clean linens and an infirmary gown, pulling the blanket up to cover him. She finally sank into the second chair with a soft groan, dimming the lights slightly with a tired wave of her hand.

“Do you know his prognosis?” Pomona asked softly, looking at the young man who was still far too pale.

“I’m not sure. He lost a lot of blood before I got to him. In another twenty minutes, he might have been too far along to save. As it is, he might have some sort of brain damage from the loss of blood and oxygen,” Poppy replied, mentally reciting the facts.

“Brain damage?” Pomona questioned softly, horrified by the possibility.

The medi-witch nodded. “He’s currently in a coma. He could come out of it tomorrow or next week.” _Or never,_ she thought to herself, not willing to voice her fears aloud.

Both women sat in silence as they considered the implications of the possible outcomes. Poppy huffed, standing from her chair abruptly, she marched into her office and faced the various portraits scattered throughout the room.

“Attention all former Infirmary Heads of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I, Madam Poppy Pomfrey, current Head of the Infirmary at Hogwarts request your aid. A student has been grievously injured in these halls. The attack occurred within the last ninety minutes. I request you speak with the portraits guarding these halls and report any individuals that have returned to their dorms within that time frame. I thank you for your assistance,” Poppy directed, looking at each of the portraits.

Each figure nodded and disappeared to carry out their orders. These portraits were loyal to the Infirmary and no one else. Poppy remained in place staring at the empty canvases for a moment before she slumped tiredly, rubbing her forehead. She turned and walked back to her patient, watching as Pomona gently wiped away the dried blood on Potter’s face.

“Hopefully we’ll have an answer by morning.”

Pomona nodded before sitting back. “Have you told the Headmaster?”

“No. I’ll inform him and the other Heads of Houses after I see how Mr. Potter does through the night. Thank you for helping, Pomona.”

“I am always willing to help, Poppy. I will see you in the morning.”

Pomona waddled out, leaving Poppy alone in the infirmary with her patient. Working quietly, Poppy went about cleaning away the blood by hand, with a warm damp cloth. The risk of further magic interfering with everything else she had done was too great. By the time she was finished, she was fuming over what she had learned from the young man’s body. Taking copious notes, the medi-witch sighed, casting various monitoring spells over the young man before retiring to her bed. She mulled over how she would handle the coming day and informing the Headmaster of the fate of his golden-boy.

(!)(!)(!)

While the Madam had worked, the castle itself started to communicate. From highest tower to deepest dungeon, nearest classroom to furthermost greenhouse; it had been many ages since the entire castle had conferred as one. The blood seeping into its stones and foundation had a history; it had a story; a sad tale for any who cared to listen. This blood carried the strength and conviction that made the best of warriors. There was also the intelligence and cunning common to the best of leaders. But the owner of this blood had been beaten, worn down by outside forces. The castle needed to meet this young man who could perhaps change the future for the better.

(!)(!)(!)

Harry blinked, but it was another moment before he realized he was actually awake. Expecting to see the blurry, vaulted ceiling of the infirmary, he was confused when he just saw...white. Nothing but pure white; he was unable to see where it began or ceased. It was silent as well. No sounds of students moving around beyond the infirmary doors. No rustle of parchment as Madam Pomfrey perused patient charts. No clinking of flasks or goblets being organized and shelved.

Slowly pushing himself up, Harry looked around, still only seeing endless white. When he turned towards the other direction, he at last saw something to break up the monochromic expanse. A burning fire pit with five tall back chairs surrounding it.

“Come and join us, Harry.”

He flinched, the sudden sound was loud after the absolute silence. The voice seemed to come from the direction of the chairs; chairs Harry could see held people whom he faintly recognize, but he couldn’t remember from where. Slowly standing, he brushed himself off, looking around one last time before approaching the chairs. The first chair he reached was empty and he carefully ran his hands over the fabric before gripping the frame.

The woman in the chair immediately to his left was dressed in a gown of dark green and warm yellow tones. Flaming red hair was casually twisted into a bun at the base of her neck. She was pale like most gingers but she looked healthy and robust.

Beside her sat another woman, this one also pale but with dark brown hair that fell in waves. Her gown was of dark blues and dark greys which complimented her fair complexion. Dark green intelligent eyes watched him observe her and he swallowed tightly. She was one to be wary of.

The next chair held a man with dirty blond hair and a greying beard that, had he been standing, fell almost to his navel. As it was, the long fingers of one hand toyed with the length while his other rubbed at his green and grey robes. His grey eyes studied Harry for a moment before darting to look at the other man of the group, the final figure within the circle.

The last man was dressed in dark reds and browns with dark brunet hair. His brown eyes were cold and calculating as his fingers drummed out a steady beat on the chair arm. His other hand held a wand which kept another staccato beat against his knee.

“He is not exactly what I expected.”

This came from the third chair; the man in green and grey. Before Harry could control himself, his eyes narrowed and his lips twitched in a silent snarl. It was a habit he had picked up dealing with Umbridge, when speaking got him into too much trouble.

“Oh, but that snarl just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, Salazar,” the second woman commented, her eyebrows climbing at Harry’s immediate response to the man’s comment.

“Who are you? And where am I?” Harry asked, eyeing the wand still tapping steadily against its knee.

“Please, have a seat Mr. Potter. We are not here to harm you. You have suffered enough at the hands of others.”

This came from the dark haired woman again and Harry shot her withering glare as he slowly moved around the chair to seat himself. He felt heat coming from the fire but once he thought about it, he realized he only expected the heat instead of felt it. Narrowing his eyes at the fire and then his surroundings, he looked back to the four individuals.

“I’m either having a dream or I’m dead. Which is it?”

“Which do you think?”

Harry wanted to snarl again; he hated riddles. Dumbledore had gotten bad with the riddles lately and he was getting sick and tired of being fed small tidbits of information only when it was a case of life or death. He wished someone would give him all the important information, even the not important information, and let him make his own decision. Putting his analytical mind to use, he again looked around at their surroundings and then back at the four individuals.

“Possibly something in between. I remember being attacked, so I doubt I came out unscathed. Meaning, I’m probably in the infirmary. However, my other experiences in the infirmary and with taking potions didn’t include hallucinations. Add to that, the fact that I am here, talking with you four...whatevers, suggests that all this is going on in my head. So, perhaps an out of body experience or a coma?” he offered, looking at each of them.

One was nodding and the others looked slightly more impressed than moments before. “I will retract my earlier statement. He does have some intelligence.”

The man with the dirty blond hair nodded at Harry as he released his beard to clasp his hands in his lap. “Mr. Potter, you are indeed in a coma. Your body is currently located in the infirmary of Hogwarts. After your attack, you almost bled to death at the scene. Your blood seeped deep into the stones of the castle and it reached us. We are the founders of Hogwarts. Our souls reside deep within the castle and we were...concerned by what your blood imparted to us. But that is for later. First, let us introduce ourselves. I am Salazar Slytherin, House of the Serpent.”

The woman beside him straightened in her chair before dipping her head respectfully towards him. “I am Rowena Ravenclaw, House of the Eagle.”

The other woman held a hand loosely over her heart and also nodded in greeting. “I am Helga Hufflepuff, loyal badger to the Earth.”

Harry’s head swung to the last man, knowing who he had to be. The last man steepled his fingers in front of his face before lowering them briefly to speak. “I am, of course, Godric Gryffindor, House of the Lion. Why did your guardians hate you so much?”

Harry twitched at the non-sequitur into a topic he wasn’t very comfortable with.

“The list of why they didn’t hate me would be so much shorter. Just be satisfied that they hated everything about me from my grades to my appearance to the sound of my voice. Why are the four founders of Hogwarts conferring with me in my mind?” Harry asked.

“We wish to impart to you a very prestigious gift-”

“You can keep your gift. Any time I’ve been given gifts by strangers it has never turned out well for me,” he replied, staring at Helga who had spoken, but keeping his senses open to keep tabs on the other three.

“Nevertheless, after reviewing your memories, we four have voted to deem you our heir,” Godric said with a bright smile, expecting the young man to debase himself in gratitude.

Instead, Harry raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and tilted his head in the universal, ‘Yeah, so?’ expression.

Rowena rolled her eyes while Salazar snorted inelegantly. Helga just grimaced and shifted in her seat. Rowena cleared her throat, drawing Harry’s attention to her.

“There are two sorts of heirs in the magical world. There is the more common blood heirs which come about as you would expect. The offspring of a successful mating inheriting the name and prestige associated with that name. Once the elder passes on then the eldest offspring inherits everything,” Rowena explained as Harry nodded in understanding.

“The other is a bit more complicated,” Salazar interjected, leaning forward in his seat.

“There is also such a thing as a magical inheritance, which is passed on not by blood but by intent. An elder can even decide to select a magical heir that is not a part of the family, however that is uncommon. If there is no one that the elder deems worthy, then the magical inheritance can be held in a dormant state until someone that is deemed worthy appears and proves themselves,” he explained, watching as Harry appeared to settle himself for a long conversation.

“If you are a part of Hogwarts, how aware are you of what goes on in the magical world?”

The four founders traded brief glances before Helga replied. “If it is spoken of in our halls and the various rooms, then we are aware of it.”

“Then you know that Tom Marvolo Riddle has long proclaimed himself as Slytherin’s only heir. Granted, he has never specified which type of heir he is, but I doubt he would tout being your heir if he wasn’t both your blood and magical one,” Harry pointed out, glancing at Salazar as the man snorted.

“That...thing...may be a blood descendent but he is a far cry from my magical heir. He lacks the characteristics that are inherent to the House of the Serpent. You, however, possess the characteristics of all four houses to some degree. You hide some of your best traits, intentionally letting people underestimate you. Why?”

Harry snorted and looked away from the curious stares of his companions. “If people expect nothing from you but the bare minimum then it’s easier to get away with certain things. My name usually never comes up on a list of suspects and if it does, then someone argues that I’m not bright enough or stealthy enough or ‘something’ enough. Makes it easier for me in the long run.”

“You are a complex wizard, young Harry,” Helga commented, as a coffee table appeared adorned with a tea service.

The founders were surprised at its appearance but Harry leaned forward and started to make himself a cup. He glanced at the four and shrugged his shoulders while stirring in the sugar.

“What? It’s my head and I wanted a cup of tea,” he replied, taking his cup and leaning back in his chair.

“Alright, I’m not convinced yet. But talk to me about this magical heir business.”

(!)(!)(!)

The early risers at Hogwarts were treated to a unique sight that morning when an infirmary elf, along with several other Hogwarts house elves, popped into existence in front of the teachers’ table in the Great Hall. A moment later, they rose, almost as one, the Headmaster and every Head of House stood from the table and left the room.

A few moments later, all five teachers converged on the infirmary but they were abruptly stopped just inside the entrance by the Head-Matron herself. She glared at all of them, holding her wand at the ready.

“Poppy, your elf said there was an attack on a student,” Minerva said, glancing around, searching the visible beds.

The bed located closest to Pomfrey’s office was surrounded by privacy screens and the group moved forward with purpose. The location was enough to indicate the severity of the attack; the beds closest to the office were for the patients that required close monitoring. With barely a twitch of her wand, Pomfrey erected a magical shield to keep the teachers back. She would not be hindered in her duty.

“The student is in no condition to be seen by anyone. The attack was a grievous one and if I am honest, I am hesitant to say if the student will live, let alone awaken. Time and rest will be the best healers right now and I will ensure that the student gets both. I shall also ensure that those responsible are punished.”

At those words, the infirmary doors opened to admit eleven students chaperoned by four house elves since the students were members of all houses. The Heads of Houses turned to look at the students and anyone watching would have seen all of the Heads tense with the realization that one of their house members may have been responsible for the attack. To add to the party, the infirmary doors opened once again to admit the pink clad form of Dolores Umbridge.

“Dolores, this is none of your concern,” Dumbledore assured.

The now familiar simpering voice replying, “Well of course it is, Albus. You’ve brought in students suspected in a crime. If lawlessness is acceptable behavior at this school then the Minister will hear of it.”

Minerva and Pomona were about to protest but Poppy waved them all silent, taking her rightful control of the situation before stronger personalities could take over and they lost sight of why they all were there.

Poppy addressed the eleven students before her. “Last night, shortly before curfew, a student was grievously wounded in the hallways and may not survive the next twenty-four hours. The portraits have reported that you eleven reported to your dorm between the time of the attack and curfew. As Head-Matron of Hogwarts Infirmary, it is my right to investigate an attack on a student under my care. You eleven will submit your wands for inspection. Immediately.”

Before the students could acquiesce or protest, Umbridge stepped forward with a small smile.

“Excuse me for intruding, Poppy, but you are simply the school’s nurse. If there has been wrongdoing at this school then we should summon the Aurors. An attack would fall under their jurisdiction,” she replied, pulling her wand to summon the Aurors.

“Actually,” Minerva interjected, “the school’s bylaws do state that any criminal offense committed on the grounds of the school by a student or staff member does not have to be reported to any outside force until seventy-two hours has passed. This allows for the school to solve its own internal offenses or disputes. Poppy is well within her rights to investigate.”

“I see.”

Poppy ignored all of this as she tested the various students and their wands. Simply asking a few questions revealed that two of them, a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin, were in a relationship and had had an intense snogging session in the library. Nothing in their wand history indicated they were lying. A Hufflepuff had sneaked down to the kitchens for a snack because all of her friends were on a diet but she wasn’t. She only pretended that she was on a diet as well to be supportive; her wand was also clean. Three others who were first years simply got lost and barely made it back to their dorms to beat curfew; they didn’t even know any offensive spells. The last five though were all Slytherins, and upper years, who stared darkly at the infirmary doors as they closed behind the departing first years. Severus watched in silence, knowing even without legilimency that these five were guilty of attacking the student. He could only hope that it wasn’t the student he thought it might be. But knowing young Malfoy was involved almost cemented his certainty of who the injured party might be.

“Well, Mr. Krilson, Miss Bulstrode, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Storkin and Mr. Uhrmquit. Do you have anything to say before I inspect your wands?” Poppy asked, holding her hand out for the first wand.

Draco sneered. “We were performing our duty as assigned by High Inquisitor Umbridge.”

“Your duty?” Poppy asked softly and both Albus and Minerva instinctively took a step back. They had both heard that tone of voice before. It indicated oncoming trouble.

Umbridge straightened and smiled slightly.

“Yes. My Inquisitorial Squads have my utmost faith and act in my stead.”

The next moment Poppy figuratively exploded.

“Does acting in your stead include almost murdering a defenseless student? Does it also include continuing to hex and curse said student when they were already down and wounded? Does that include permitting _your_ _squad_ to use any spells, including Unforgivables? I question how a student was able to cast an Unforgivable in a school that should have a ward to monitor and neutralize that,” Poppy snarled at the stout woman.

Everyone gaped in silent shock until the students started protesting; Malfoy the loudest. Poppy Pomfrey may have seemed like a placid, run of the mill or everyday mediwitch, but when her ire got up she was as dangerous as some of the most powerful witches or wizards. Silencing the students with an easily cast charm, she summoned the five wands without further ado and smiled when they all came flying into her hand. Her magic always did work better when she was angry.

“We didn’t cast anything! Marissa and I didn’t do it!” Uhrmquit cried, cutting his eyes towards the other three.

Poppy pursed her lips tightly, not responding to the claim. Not even looking at the few guilty faces, she cast _Prior Incantato_ and watched as the words drifted from the tip of the first wand she searched. Uhrmquit spoke the truth; his wand and Storkin’s were clean. Returning the wands to their respective owner, she dismissed those two before turning her ire to the other three. Her teeth ground together when she cast again and saw the variety of curses and hexes; her mind supplying the associated damage to the body that she had to fix with each revealed spell. By the time all three wands were tested, the extent of the damage inflicted on the student had been revealed and it sickened the adults present.

“He never even tried to defend himself. And when he was down, you continued to hex him like the cowards you are,” she snarled softly with enough venom to make the three Slytherins flinch.

Before anyone could speak, Poppy snapped her wand towards the empty fireplace. Green fire flared up and the next moment two Aurors stepped out from the flames along with Pimsy.

Poppy pointed a quivering finger at Umbridge. “And you! You cruel, terrible toad! Using a blood quill on students in your detentions, in my school! You punish those who ask logical questions that you don’t want to answer, you punish those who tell the truth that you don’t want to admit, you punish those that don’t conform to the box you built for them. Well, I hope you enjoy _your_ box at MLE because that’s where you’re going to be shortly, along with these three miscreants.”

With a swirl of her matron’s robes that rivaled that of the present Potions Master, Poppy turned to the Aurors and lifted her chin.

“Thank you for coming so quickly. I would like to file charges against these four. These students attacked an unarmed student in the hallways, used various curses and hexes, as well as Unforgivables, against him and left him for dead. The...pink toad used a recognized dark object on various students; number unknown as of yet.”

Albus stepped forward, shocked at how quickly things had escalated. “Now Poppy, we don’t need to bring the Ministry in on this. I’m sure-”

Poppy’s glare was so fierce that the older wizard recoiled. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘ _we_ ’, Headmaster. I am not bringing in the Ministry. I am bringing in the MLE and Pimsy has already provided Madam Amelia Bones with all of my notes because I know she will not allow this to be swept under the proverbial rug.

“And yes, Mr. Malfoy, your father will hear about this, about how you instigated a cowardly attack on an unarmed student with two others to help you. I will take pleasure in announcing, to everyone who will listen, how the only way Draco Malfoy can battle a fellow student wizard is with backup and if the wizard is unarmed.”

Draco blanched and shook his head, the fear of that particular knowledge getting back to his father plain on his face. He never saw Pomfrey turning her ire back to the Headmaster.

“No more, Albus. I will no longer tolerate you putting your students above the law and thinking them exempt. It sets a bad precedence and leaves lasting impressions,” Poppy snapped, glancing towards Severus and remembering when a stupid prank was moments away from being a deadly one.

Severus flushed at the memory of the Shrieking Shack and the painful shock he had felt when Albus simply did what Poppy was now accusing him of: ‘sweeping it under the rug.’ Dropping his gaze, he listened to Albus and Poppy as Umbridge shrieked her outrage at this “uppity” nurse.

“I have done nothing wrong!”

Poppy’s wand was pointed towards Umbridge so suddenly and with such a smooth fluidness that the shriek died with a terrified yelp and then silence. “You said when you entered this room that your Inquisitorial Squads act in your stead. I take that to mean that you supported them using Unforgivables on fellow students. That is just as serious as if you yourself held the wand and spoke the incantation. So that’s another charge that can be placed at your feet, Dolores.”


	2. Chapter 2

Godric tilted his head slightly, his gaze distant as he stared at the teapot. Helga stopped speaking, raising an eyebrow at her companion’s sudden silence. The lapse in conversation attracted the attention of Salazar and Rowena who were going over magical theory and new spellwork with Harry. Being so close for so long, the four of them had a connection to each other which allowed them to sense when things were off. They had taken to working with Harry in alternating shifts since the young man never seemed to tire and they didn’t want to overload him on one topic. Not tiring could have been because physically Harry was resting and healing in the infirmary of Hogwarts, while here they were in his mind which had nothing else to do but learn. Salazar and Rowena approached the others slowly while Harry continued his wandless work.

“What is it Godric?” Salazar asked softly, still keeping an eye on Harry’s form.

“Something is happening in the castle. A moment.”

Godric faded from their view just as Harry approached.

“Where is Godric fading off to?”

Helga snorted a bit and reached for a biscuit. “He sensed something happening in the castle and apparently it was something he felt the need to go and investigate.”

“Can all of you sense the castle?” he asked, looking at the other two.

“To an extent, yes. We are each connected more closely to our respective towers but we all sense the castle. It is its own sentient being but we are sort of the guiding force if you will,” Helga replied and Rowena nodded.

“I sense something as well. A strong conflict of some sort occurring in the infirmary.”

“The infirmary? Should I be concerned?” Harry asked, not sounding at all worried that his body was in the infirmary.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. That Head Matron of the infirmary is quite a spitfire if I do say so myself,” Salazar said with a smirk.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you have the hots for Madam Pomfrey.”

“Alright, I will not tell you I wish to rip off her apron and have her tie me up with the strings to have her wicked way with me.”

Rowena and Helga groaned at Salazar’s words while Harry yelped and clapped his hands over his ears. During the time the young man had been with them, he had opened up, allowing them to see the intelligent and powerful wizard hidden just under the surface. It was fascinating to compare what they were learning now to what they had seen when observing as the castle. Harry really did dumb down his intelligence and abilities in classes and during interactions with people. He was a force to be reckoned with all on his own. The Founders knew that once he claimed their magic, the only thing that would stop him would be his own personal morality.

Salazar led Harry aside, leaving the two women to talk. Rowena conjured her own chair and sat close to Helga as the head of Hufflepuff fixed herself another cup of tea

“How is he doing?” Helga questioned softly, watching the dark haired young man.

“He doesn’t let much keep him down. Salazar thinks he might carry an Incubus line within him.”

Helga wasn’t pretty when she promptly choked on her tea and started coughing to clear the liquid, her face turning a blotchy red as tears streamed down her cheeks. Rowena waited quietly, eventually holding out a handkerchief as her friend composed herself. She couldn’t really blame the woman; she had a similar fit when Salazar had mentioned it to her. Helga wiped her eyes and cleared her throat.

“But how is that possible? The last one known with any certainty was Salazar and he has been dead for centuries. The only way an Incubus or Succubus can even come into their maturity is by interacting with a mature Incubus or Succubus. The bloodlines must have faded out long ago.”

Rowena shook her head as she inspected the assortment of biscuits on the tea table, carefully selecting which one she wanted to nibble on. She answered while continuing to debate with herself about biscuits.

“He thinks the various lines may have gone recessive, carried through the females since they can only be Succubi. The Potter line did originate with the Peverells, you remember. And Salazar did have that small fling with the Peverell offspring; the both of them,” she answered, finally settling on a strawberry biscuit.

“Merlin, he did. He was horrible with the stories after finishing with those two.”

“Well, you know Salazar. If there was pleasure to be had, he was going to be in the middle of it,” Rowena said, grimacing as she remembered the graphic descriptions of Salazar’s fun.

“So, Salazar is filling Harry in on what may happen when he absorbs the inheritance. Are we sure that absorbing Salazar’s magical signature would be enough to bring forward Harry’s Incubus?”

Rowena shrugged and looked over at the two dark haired wizards. “Salazar seems confident of it. He has told Harry where his personal journals are so he can read up on being an Incubus. Salazar also commented that since Harry will become our magical heir, he will have access to our private residence, including our main study. Thoughts?”

Helga watched as Harry nodded to something Salazar was saying before smiling brightly. She refrained from answering Rowena, wondering what the two might be discussing.

(!)(!)(!)

“So you’re telling me I might become an Incubus? A sex creature?” Harry asked, mostly confused. How could he become a creature he had never even heard of?

Salazar nodded excitedly. “Yes, you just might; and you will not be just a sex creature. You will gain energy from any companion you have intimate relations with as well as control that person’s pleasure. You would basically have control of sex magic in any form. You would not have to be Dominant or submissive, nor giver or receiver; you would not even need to be an active partner; just in close proximity to the action.”

Harry made a face. “Where’s the fun in not participating?”

“Exactly! But you would gain power either way you choose, as an active participant or if you decided to direct the action instead. If anyone has an orgasm in your presence you will still gain power from it.”

Salazar pulled Harry closer as they continued to walk and talk.

(!)(!)(!)

Severus carefully pushed the infirmary doors open to admit himself and the crate he was levitating, filled with a fresh order of potions. The infirmary was quiet, currently empty of any patients except Harry Potter. Poppy had almost become rabid in her protection of the young man; only trusting Pomona Sprout to watch over him when she couldn’t. Several of the other professors had offered to sit during their free periods but all were turned away with firm words.

Advancing further into the infirmary, he found Poppy exactly where he expected her to be. Seated in a straight back chair beside a medical screen, watching over Harry while her wand occasionally twitched, directing the various cleaning spells she was controlling. The screen still shielded Harry from the rest of the infirmary and none had seen him since Poppy had rescued him so many nights earlier. He knew that Weasley and Granger had been by to visit, only to be turned away by Pomfrey with a stern look.

“Poppy, I have brought this month’s order of potions and balms,” he announced, as she glanced at him before turning back to her patient.

“Thank you, Professor. Please place them on a bed. I’ll sort and shelve them later.”

He had been privately horrified by what his three Slytherins had done in the darkened hallways. It smacked of his own childhood at Hogwarts on the receiving end of those sort of attacks. The past few days, knowing Potter lay near death in the infirmary, had forced the Potions Master to be starkly honest with himself. Hearing Lucius Malfoy rant and rave over the injustice done to his son at being arrested by the Aurors and the damage to his reputation, Snape was somehow not shocked that Lucius cared more about the state of the Malfoy name than the fact his son was dangerously close to being charged with the murder of a fellow student. He most certainly faced the charge of attempted murder at the very least should Harry survive. Teaching classes without Potter in them had opened his eyes to how badly he had treated the young wizard. He saw now that the Slytherins felt they had free reign in his classroom. He forced himself to see what he had willfully ignored previously as various Slytherins blatantly ruined the potions of students in other Houses; knowing that he wouldn’t come down on members of his own house. It hurt seeing that the other students didn’t even try to accuse the Slytherins; knowing he wouldn’t listen to them. He vowed once the Dark Lord was gone he would try to fix things; if he survived that is and remained a professor at Hogwarts. 

“Perhaps I could sit with Potter while you shelve these or possibly take a walk? A stretch of the legs might do you some good. Or you could partake of a meal in the Great Hall?”

Poppy turned, looking at him as he took the crate in hand and set it on the nearest bed. He looked back at her, trying to arrange his face in an expression of neutrality.

“No thank you, Severus. I’m not comfortable leaving him under your care, no matter how briefly.”

The subtle barb rankled him. He normally wouldn’t have even offered to watch over any student let alone Harry Potter. But the fact that the statement also insinuated that she didn’t trust him to care about a student’s well-being was insulting.

“Despite not having your extensive expertise, Madam Pomfrey. I assure you, I am more than capable of watching over a comatose boy.”

The next moment Poppy was on her feet with her wand pointing at Severus’ chest. He had no hope of reaching his own as she advanced on him.

“The reason I am denying you, Professor Snape,” she spat, “...is that while I was treating the boy, searching for magical signatures and clues to what spells were used against him, I found traces of several forceful  _ Legilimens _ . Now, none of the three students that attacked him in the hallway had that spell on their wand. However, I am willing to bet galleons that if I cast a  _ Prior Incantato _ on your wand, that spell will show up.”

His hand spasmed with an uncontrollable urge to hide away his wand. Poppy’s eyes dropped to the quick movement and he knew she realized what was behind it.

“You mentally raped that boy, unrelenting in your attack time after time after time, and that is no way to teach any student. I’m not sure what the purpose was or if there was any point at all to that...that torture! If anything, you tore down any mental fortitude and shields he might have naturally possessed. Did you know that I checked Harry’s wand as well? He didn’t cast any defensive spells...he didn’t cast any offensive ones either! That leads me to believe that after his ‘remedial potions’ with you, he was so broken that he didn’t bother fighting back. He did nothing whatsoever to protect himself after dealing with you and whatever you may have said or done to him! That makes me question your overall quality as a professor when it comes to Harry Potter. You were vicious with him when you didn’t have to be and that I cannot accept.”

Her razor sharp words pierced his chest and his breath left his body in a shuddering exhale of shock and realization. She did have a point. His own memories of how he learned Occlumency were starkly different from the way he tried to “teach” Potter. Severus’ mother might have done little to protect her son from his father but she did teach him how to protect his mind. She had walked him step by step through building his shields and creating distractions to fool those who sought to enter his mind. Taught him with patient examples how to hide away critical information and create false memories to offer as bait. Whereas he had simply ordered Potter to clear his mind before entering it like a battering ram; never teaching him how to do as he ordered, nor even a modicum of mental defense. The sad thing was, he didn’t do it under orders from the Dark Lord. His actions had come from his own cruel desire to injure the son of an old enemy; the orphan son with no clear memory of either of his parents. From the memories he had viewed, there was more than a good chance that James Potter and the Marauders would have bullied Harry too, had they been at school together.

“You are correct, Madam Pomfrey. My actions were...intolerable. I will endeavor to be more...neutral towards Mr. Potter.”

Poppy lowered her wand and slowly shook her head. “Sadly it might be too little too late. Your Slytherins have done significant damage. Thank you for the potions. Please see yourself out of my infirmary.”

Severus watched as she turned, returning to her seat beside the medical screen. She disappeared briefly, leaning forward to check on the young man in the bed before sitting back to rest in her chair. Sighing to himself, Severus turned, departing the infirmary with his proverbial tail tucked between his legs.

(!)(!)(!)

“Poppy, you must see reason. Harry has been here a week and there has been no change. No indication that he will ever wake up. He needs to be transferred to St. Mungo’s,” Albus calmly intoned, glancing over at the motionless figure on the bed.

They stood away from the occupied bed at Poppy’s insistence. The boy was pale but otherwise healthy looking, the infirmary pajamas hiding the healing wounds and various injuries. Albus had honestly expected Harry to awaken a few days after the attack; the boy’s reliable luck at escaping bad situations pulling him through yet again. It was disappointing to find himself mistaken. Harry needed to be moved to the long-term care ward and his plans for Voldemort’s demise would have to be revised without the sacrificial lamb of Harry Potter. Perhaps he could nick the holly wand before shipping the boy off; possessing the brother wand of Voldemort’s could only be helpful.

“No, Albus, I refuse to send him to St. Mungo’s. Mr. Potter was injured in this school and he will be healed in this school. As much as I dislike Professor Snape at the moment, it is undeniable that his potions are infinitely better than those at St. Mungo’s. The healers there also don’t know Mr. Potter as I do and their security is laughable at best. They could not ensure Mr. Potter’s safety, from neither Death Eaters nor unscrupulous reporters. He remains here,” she declared, crossing her arms over her chest, wand clutched tightly in her hand.

Albus sighed in exasperation, rubbing his forehead briefly. Despite being the Headmaster, Poppy had complete control over all aspects of the infirmary. Therefore no patient could be removed without her approval and Harry Potter was still her patient.

“Is there any brain activity? Any hope he can come out of this?”

Poppy hesitated but spoke before Albus could jump on her hesitation as further justification to transfer the boy. “There are signs of brain activity but it is very deep. Not like someone sleeping or daydreaming. This is deep down, at his mental core. Harry is still there; he’s not lost to us.”

“But how long will he be like this, Poppy? We cannot wait for him. Tom will not wait for him.”

Poppy sneered and Albus was surprised to see that severe expression upon the usually passive face.

“Harry Potter is not a weapon for you to wield, Albus! He is a child, a student, about to be a young man and you care more about winning a war by any means necessary than ensuring that he survives the same war. You need...you need to get out of my infirmary. I am done speaking about this and will deal with you later...or tomorrow. Just some other time!”

Poppy started to motion briskly with her wand for Albus to precede her towards the large double doors. Any time he tried to speak, she shushed him, shoving gently and sometimes not so gently at his shoulders. She gave him one last shove to clear the threshold and closed the doors behind him. She quickly pressed her hands to the wood and called on the infirmary to seal the doors, as was her right as the head matron. One of the monitoring spells she had set over Harry had started to vibrate her wand, indicating he was beginning to wake up. Something told her that he wouldn’t want the Headmaster near him while he was waking and temporarily vulnerable. Just as she removed her hands from the doors, she felt another layer of protection overlay hers; magic far more powerful than she had ever felt. Spinning to see where it may have come from, her gaze fell on Harry himself and the swirls of magic pulsating around him.

Hurrying to Harry’s side, Poppy watched in shock as Harry began to toss and turn in the bed; eyes flickering wildly under his closed lids. Despite being practically comatose for a week, he was surprisingly active. Brightly colored energy was leeching from the walls and swirling around Harry’s body, almost forming a multi-hued shield as the infirmary walls groaned. Poppy turned towards the door, hearing loud voices and equally loud pounding on the wood. Looking back to Harry, she jerked in surprise seeing a pair of intense emerald eyes watching her. Neither of them blinked until a colored streak of magic broke their connection. Harry’s eyelids fluttered briefly as he groaned, slowly rolling on his side and pushing himself up.

“Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?” Poppy asked, ignoring the swirling colors to raise her wand and cast a diagnostic spell.

Surprisingly, her spell was blocked as she found herself pushed away from Harry’s bed.

“Thank you for watching over me, Poppy, but don’t start with that right now,” he groaned, not seeing the surprised look on the woman’s face at his use of her forename.

Harry forced himself upright, gripping the bed frame tightly for support as he locked his gaze on the nearest stone wall. The parting words of the Founders rang through his mind,  _ Just touch any stone wall of Hogwarts. Our power, our magic will be waiting for you. The magic and knowledge of the Founders. _ Despite Madam Pomfrey’s excellent efforts, he was still weak and practically fell against the wall of the infirmary with both hands pressed against the cool stone. His back arched sharply and a scream burst from his lips as power and pure energy poured into him from both the stone and the swirling mass filling the room. Oh, the Founders did not warn him about this. His hands slowly skittered down the wall as he shivered and shook under the onslaught. He could hear Pomfrey in the background calling out to him and trying to help but there was nothing she could do until all of this was finished. They had at least warned him it would take a few hours. He needed a safe place where no one would disturb him.

“Dobby!” he yelled; reaching for his stalwart house elf.

A pop and a squeak later Dobby was next to him. “Master Harry, how can Dobby help sir?”

Harry squeezed his eyelids shut against the tilting room, reaching out towards the voice, searching for the small creature. A cool hand gripped his and without thinking he pulled his friend closer.

“Take me to the Founders’ Quarters. Now,” he ordered softly.

There was a moment of silence signifying Dobby’s confusion before he felt the rooms Harry spoke about. Harry didn’t have to feel them; the Founders had told him that he would have access upon the inheritance. In the same way the Founders sensed the castle, Harry  _ knew _ the rooms were there, somewhere in Hogwarts; tucked away until the heir was presented. Dobby popped them away.

(!)(!)(!)

Poppy Pomfrey gasped in relief as the pressure around her chest eased and she felt like she could breathe again. Bits of parchment and small pieces of fabric drifted down to the stone floor; no longer held aloft by the swirling energies. Frantic hammering continued to come from the infirmary doors as she slowly straightened, still in shock from what had just transpired. Looking around at her infirmary, she was surprised it wasn’t more damaged given what she had witnessed. What  _ had _ she just witnessed? A soft huff of laughter slipped from between her lips as she fell weakly onto a nearby bed, holding her head in her free hand. The magical output she just saw go into Harry Potter was astonishing, and all coming from the castle.

Grimacing at the now even louder noise coming from the infirmary doors, she waved her wand and dropped the shields, bracing herself for the onslaught. The door burst open to admit Albus, Minerva and Severus, all armed and ready to do battle with whoever was attacking the infirmary. Poppy stood, clearing her throat and smoothing down her apron.

“Can I help you three?” she asked, hiding her slightly trembling hands behind the apron’s folds.

Realizing there was a glaring lack of assailants, the wands lowered.

“What happened in here, Poppy?” Minerva asked, looking around at the minimally messy infirmary.

“Well, the details are confidential between the patient and me, but suffice it to say that Mr. Potter has awakened. He...took a dislike to his surroundings and decided to depart.”

“Harry is awake? And you let him leave?” Albus asked swiftly.

“Where did he go?” Minerva asked as Severus visually searched the infirmary.

“I did no such thing, Headmaster. Harry called for a house elf and the creature popped them away. I am unsure where exactly as I do not know where the location is that Harry specified,” Poppy replied sharply, turning to start tidying the mess.

“But you did hear where Mr. Potter requested to be taken,” Severus interjected calmly, seeming to be the only one not really interested in what had just happened.

Poppy paused and thought through what she had heard. She almost couldn’t believe it. Of course, she knew about the Founders’ Quarters. It was as much of a legend as the Chamber of Secrets had been, but lacking a dangerous creature automatically made it less popular. She doubted any of the current students even knew about the rumor while most of the adult staff had at least heard mention of it. Every once in awhile a historian would publish an article exploring the potential existence of the Quarters and theorize about its location. Poppy had always believed the whole idea was pure rubbish. Confident that any private office shared by the Founders, the place where they kept their most revered parchments; tomes from Alexander the Great, Merlin, Morgana, Catherine the Great, John Smith; was either locked away forever or had been destroyed to protect the world from its accumulated knowledge. Now to learn that a student might have access to it; a student who hadn’t had the best life up to this point. A student who had been attacked in a place where he should have been protected; a place he should have felt safe.

“Poppy?”

Her head popped up to look at Albus.

“Mr. Potter asked the house elf to take him to the Founders’ Quarters,” she replied as calmly as she could.

The reactions were not what she expected if she was being honest. Albus hesitated for a brief moment before swirling around and storming from the infirmary. Minerva wobbled as though she might faint, steadied only by Severus’ firm hand at her elbow.

“Are you certain? Potter said the Founders’ Quarters,” his voice hard. Poppy’s gaze snapped to the man she still wasn’t a fan of.

“I am certain. It would seem the Founders’ heir has been identified.”

(!)(!)(!)

Harry gasped as if coming up from a deep water dive and heard a sharp squeak nearby.

“Master Harry, sir. Dobby has been watching and taking care of you,” Dobby assured but quieted when Harry waved weakly at him.

Slumping back onto the firm floor, Harry panted, opening his eyes and slowly taking in his new surroundings. He was resting on a thick rug in a room with a high vaulted ceiling, at least from his point of view on the floor. The ceiling came into focus and Harry grunted softly to himself in vague interest at the elaborate detailing. Rolling over, he cautiously pushed himself up, eventually managing to lean against a nearby sofa with an eager Dobby at his side. He reached up to instinctively straighten his glasses but was surprised to not feel the delicate wire frames.

“Do-” his voice caught as he coughed from the dryness of his throat.

A glass of water was promptly thrust into his hands and he sipped it gratefully while gathering his bearings. He felt sore all over, as though he had played an all night Quidditch game, during a rainstorm, in the dead of winter, after going a round with Dudley. He was clad in only his pants with a blanket draped over his legs. Looking at one of his hands, he stretched the fingers out, spreading them open and watching the muscles in his forearm flex.

“Dobby? Wha-” he stopped in shock when he realized it was his voice he was hearing.

Last he knew his voice wasn’t that deep and his hands weren’t that big. Feeling the tendrils of oncoming panic, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the sofa. Hearing a soft shuffle near him, he cracked open an eye and looked at his friend and helper.

“Dobby, go and get Madam Pomfrey if you can. Talk to her first, don’t just pop her here and surprise her.”

“Of course, Master Harry sir.”

Dobby popped away, leaving Harry alone. After several deep breaths, he felt calm enough to open his eyes fully and look around the room as best he could from this location. What he could see of the space was filled with plush chairs and simple side tables, offering multiple places to sit and drink or read. A large fire was burning in the center of the room, stone pillars at the four corners of the fire pit supporting the chimney. The fire was accessible from all four sides and he could see most of the room over and through the flames. Across from him was a simple kitchen area with table, sink, and kettle. A door next to the kitchen area was ajar, revealing the edge of a toilet. Thick rugs covered the cold stone floors. The color scheme was mostly ivory and a rich shade of deep purple. A double set of glass and wood doors sat ajar, revealing a bedroom. The last door that he could see in the room was probably the exit.

The most interesting part of the room was a large arched doorway that led to utter blackness just off from the room Harry was in. He would have guessed the door was just a black color but it seemed more than that. It was like the light that flooded the entire room with warmth simply ended at the doorway. Over the arching doorway was a shelf supporting a marble statue of a noble raven with its wings spread. An elegant snake was depicted in beautiful tilework on the floor just at the threshold. To the right of the doorway was another shelf with a statue of a magnificent lion, posed and at watch upon a rock. To the left, on a similar shelf, a fierce badger was mounted on a tree stump. With remarkable speed, everything synced in his mind; a badger, a lion, a snake and a raven. He was indeed in the Founders’ Quarters and he was in possession of their powers. With that realization, a door opened in his mind and he suddenly had access to practically infinite knowledge. Knowledge that only the Founders had known; long lost to time. Magic flared to life in his vision and he could see the numerous magical artifacts placed around the room like simple knick knacks; his magic swept out from him, down each hallway and into every corner. The statues above and around the doorway came to life and turned to look at him, bowing their heads in respect; the snake’s head actually lifting from the tile to bow before descending back into the tile work. The frames decorating the sides of the chimney, that Harry hadn’t yet noticed, came to life as the Founders looked down at him with pride.

“Welcome Lord Hogwarts,” Helga said, prompting an abrupt giggle from Harry.

He blinked before replying, “Well, that’s new.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Thank you to all that commented or reviewed or followed or favorited or bookmarked. You all are great! Huge thanks go to MyFirstistheFourth for being such a great beta. It’s amazing how many stories we’ve gone through together. See you all at the next posting.


	3. Chapter 3

Poppy checked her bag one last time before holding her hand out to the house elf. A short while ago he had popped in, requesting she accompany him to see one Harry Potter and shocking her badly enough that she had dropped the potion in her hand. It had been hours since the young man disappeared from the infirmary with his elf friend. Dinner had long since been concluded after Albus had announced that if anyone saw Mr. Potter or anything strange to report it immediately to a professor. Albus had hinted to the staff that Harry might be a danger to himself which had Poppy snorting in disgust. The only immediate danger to that boy was Dumbledore and his machinations. Still, she had nodded in apparent agreement with the other professors.

She had retired back to her infirmary, to inventory her stores and think over everything that had occurred. She hadn't gotten far when the house elf appeared with his request. The creature had been most unhelpful when she questioned him regarding what she might need to bring with her, prompting her to pack a basic potions kit covering the broadest range of needs. If she needed anything else she could always send him back to her supply room.

Dobby grasped her hand and a moment later she was standing in a circular room filled with plush chairs and warmed by a roaring fire. Scanning the room quickly, her focus settled upon the figure slumped on the floor and leaning against a chair. The medi-witch hurried forward. Finding him staring at the space above the fireplace so intently, Poppy turned warily to see what held his attention. A frame sized to only show one person now held four individuals each of whom Poppy immediately recognized. They all greeted her by name and the look Salazar Slytherin gave her caused Poppy to raise her eyebrows sharply in challenge. Shaking her head in amazement at the frame housing all of Hogwarts’ Founders, she turned back to her charge.

“Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?” 

Dropping to her knees beside him, she barely withheld her gasp once the dark head turned to look at her. The young man before her was the very one she had been watching over for the past week yet he was not the same. She immediately recognized him as Harry Potter but he was now a grown and rather fit young man. If Poppy had been twenty years younger, she might have blushed and stumbled over her duties in front of such an attractive wizard. It was already bad enough considering she blushed once she looked over his mostly bare body. Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she pulled her wand and began to cast diagnostic charms.

“Any lightheadedness? Seeing doubles or triples? Any pains due to your injuries?” she asked briskly, taking in the readings from her wand at the same time.

“No, just weary,” he replied, a hand coming up to rub across his forehead.

Without even thinking, Poppy summoned a Pepper-Up from her bag and handed it over to Harry while she continued her wand work. Poppy’s eyebrows popped up in surprise at what the diagnostic scans showed. She wouldn’t have thought it possible; it had only been a few hours since she last scanned him. The readings were shocking on many levels.

“I’m not sure how to explain it, Mr. Potter, but every deficiency you once had is now gone. You’re at your full height, ideal weight and muscle mass for your age. Your magical core has practically quadrupled in size. You may even grow more once you reach your majority. It’s frankly unbelievable.

“There’s something else new about you. Something my scan is picking up but can’t identify. Any ideas?”

Harry quirked one eyebrow at her. Poppy raised an eyebrow in response. She had a good hunch the young man knew exactly what it was. She wasn’t that concerned over the answer seeing as he was in good health but she was curious.

“Well, other than the weariness you are in excellent health. The fatigue can be attributed to your sudden growth spurt and the Pepper-Up potion will help with that. It’s remarkable really, your improved condition.”

He grunted and shifted. “Yeah, that’s me. Always the oddball.”

Poppy had reached out and smacked the back of the dark head before she could even blink then glowered at the shocked expression she received in response. If Harry wasn’t in the mood to inform her of his secrets, that was fine, but she wouldn’t tolerate that sort of language. “Oddball is another term for unique, and I for one prefer the unique and the oddball to any perceived normality. Take pride in being yourself, Mr. Potter, for there is no other.”

Harry stared at the healer, his mouth still open in surprise. Then he started to laugh which prompted Poppy to giggle as well. The laughter ebbed naturally as Harry sipped from his glass of water before speaking.

“How long has it been since I left the infirmary?”

Setting aside her bag and struggling to her feet, Poppy thought to herself that she certainly wasn’t as spry as she used to be.

“Roughly eight hours now. Up you get. It’s not good for you to be lying on this cold stone floor,” she ordered, casting a featherlight charm before holstering her wand.

Holding out her hands, she helped pull Harry to his feet, the blanket falling to the floor only to be swept away by the waiting Dobby. Between the two of them, they staggered toward the double doors which opened at their approach. The headboard of the bed was flush against a wall of windows overlooking the majority of Hogwarts and the Black Lake beyond. The bed was the dominant feature, apart from that, the room held a couple of deep chairs and a chaise lounge. There was a bureau and an armoire for clothing plus a small desk. A door to their left was ajar enough to reveal a private loo and on their right, another fireplace glowed brightly as a merry fire crackled away.

Harry collapsed onto the plush bed and resisted the urge to moan at how comfortable it was.  _ Infinitely better than the floor. _

“Can you tell me what happened in the infirmary, Mr. Potter?” Poppy asked, propping her hip on the edge of the bed.

“Before, during or after my time in the infirmary you mean? And please call me Harry,” he replied with a weak chuckle.

“Well, I managed to put together a pretty good timeline of what landed you in the infirmary. The students that attacked you have been arrested by the Aurors. Two of them have already been sentenced and the last is awaiting a trial.”

Harry lifted his head, struggling to sit up. “You said it’s been a week since the attack. They are still awaiting a trial for the three others?”

“Only one other. Miss Storkin and Mr. Uhrmquit did not cast any spells against you. Mr. Krilson and Miss Bulstrode have already had their trial and were found guilty. Their wands were confiscated for a period of six months and their magic restricted for a year. Lucius Malfoy is, of course, throwing up various roadblocks for his son’s trial. Draco Malfoy’s punishment is expected to be harsher seeing as he was the one that cast an Unforgivable while the other two did not,” she replied, leaning forward and pulling pillows out from under the covers to help Harry prop up against the headboard.

“I don’t remember much past the first hexes but after that is where it got interesting. I woke to…”

They passed the next two hours with Harry describing most of what occurred inside his head. He obviously withheld the knowledge that he might be an Incubus. Salazar did say that a few with questionable morals had managed to give the creature a bad rap in general and Harry wanted to read through Salazar’s journals before practicing any of his Incubus powers. Poppy seemed to accept everything Harry said, asking practical questions until an easy quiet settled between them.

“So we are in the Founders’ Quarters,” Poppy commented, glancing around the bedroom.

“Apparently. It was hidden in Hogwarts by the Founders using a tweaked  _ Fidelis Charm _ . There is an actual door leading into the Quarters but it was sealed until an heir was identified. The same door leading out will migrate to different locations in the castle. The only way to enter the Quarters is through the ‘in’ door but it will only open to my magical signature. Originally they each had their own quarters but they spoke with Hogwarts after meeting me and had the castle combine everything into one suite of rooms.” Harry paused in his recitation abruptly. “Oh, that’s interesting,” Harry said surprised, the knowledge about the Quarters had just suddenly been there once he started thinking about it. 

Poppy looked startled by the wealth of knowledge falling from Harry’s lips. She had been listening when Harry revealed that the Founders had named him their magical heir but she really hadn’t realized what that meant. He had all of their knowledge at his disposal, a mere thought away it appeared.

“You will need to be careful, Harry. I’m not sure what your plans will be once you’re back on your feet but you will need to tread delicately. The Headmaster was not pleased when I told him where your elf had taken you. The Founders’ Quarters is one of the more prevalent rumors about Hogwarts and some witches or wizards would happily sacrifice their own families and their souls for the chance to peruse the private journals of the Founders. Albus is powerful already but, like most people with power, he always wants more. He  _ will _ be tempted by this,” Poppy advised, watching as Harry’s face darkened.

“Dumbledore has a lot to answer for, I’ve found,” he replied softly. “But I can’t do anything until I’m back on my feet. Dobby!”

The house elf popped in eagerly with an apron now tied around his body. Shaking his head at the overly eager elf, Harry smiled weakly before speaking.

“Dobby, please collect copies of the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler from the past week. Can you also scrounge up some food for me?” Harry asked, chuckling when Dobby eagerly nodded.

“Yes, Master Harry. Dobby is fixing a stew now. It will be ready shortly. Dobby will get the papers for you.”

Harry glanced at the amused healer. “I need to catch up on what’s going on in the politics of wizarding Britain. I’ve a good feeling I’m going to be smack in the center of it shortly.”

“Well then Mr. P-I mean, Harry, I will leave you to catch up on the news. If you start feeling poorly, please come and see me or send your elf to collect me. I would like to see you again in a few hours to see if my diagnostic readings have changed any.”

Harry nervously picked at the bed coverings. “I don’t think they’re going to change any, Madam Pomfrey.”

Poppy waited for more information but when none seemed to be coming she softly spoke, “I wish you could trust me Harry, but given your history, I do understand why that is difficult. I know it is too late to do any good, but every time you returned to Hogwarts, every time you ended up in my infirmary, I always brought my concerns to the Headmaster. I wish I could have done more. Know that anything you tell me is protected under healer confidentiality. I can be one of your confidants if you’d let me.”

He stared at her; for the first time that he could remember, he felt that maybe an adult was truly looking out for his best interests. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have the formidable medi-witch on his side. But he had learned the hard way that it was best to make observations and gather data before making a move; starting with ensuring that Poppy respected his wishes.

Harry weakly smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I just might take you up on that.”

“Please call me Poppy. I have a feeling we are going to be good friends when all is said and done,” she said with a smile, patting his knee. 

“Now if you don’t mind, please summon that elf of yours so I can get back to the infirmary.”

“His name is Dobby, you can call him yourself if you wish.” Harry chuckled at the matron’s scandalised expression and called Dobby as requested. 

Dobby happily returned the head-matron to the infirmary then dropped off the requested newspapers before leaving to finish his work in the kitchen. Harry scanned the articles, moving steadily through the days and looking over every page. He knew how the Prophet operated; putting articles it wasn’t too happy about but needed to report on the back pages in hopes that they wouldn’t be seen. There were small blurbs about the three students being tried and the progress of the case. They were tried separately.  _ No doubt Malfoy senior’s doing _ , Harry mused dryly, though he was pleased to see his name wasn’t mentioned in the articles. He mentally noted the name of the barrister trying the case and planned to get in touch with the individual. Reading today’s paper made him want to call the barrister immediately. The article only mentioned that the barrister for the Malfoy family was trying to get the case dismissed against Draco Malfoy but didn’t give the barrister’s reasoning. The proceedings were already done for the day but would resume tomorrow. Not wanting to miss out, Harry put the newspapers aside and called for Dobby.

“Yes, Master Harry sir?”

“Please go and collect Hedwig for me. I need to send a letter.”

The house elf disappeared, reappearing a moment later with an annoyed snowy owl, though the annoyance quickly disappeared once she saw Harry. She flew to his shoulder with a fond hoot, nuzzling his head as he summoned a parchment and quill.

“I know, I missed you too sweet girl. I need you to take this to Barrister Kalyani Yacoub. Please wait for a reply.”

_ Barrister Yacoub, _

_ As I am unsure if you have my actual name, I will just say that I am the individual that was attacked in the Malfoy case you are trying. I wish to meet with you before the next trial date. Can I see you in your office tomorrow morning? _

_ Respectfully, _

_ An Interested Party _

Harry folded the parchment and handed it over to Hedwig. Waving his hand, one of the windows behind the bed opened and Hedwig sprang from his shoulder to disappear through the opening. Curious over the nonchalant motion which opened the window, he gestured again and watched as it closed quietly.

“You’re mentally connected to these Quarters,” a voice called from the other room.

Harry rolled his eyes and cautiously pushed himself off the bed. Snatching his wand from the bedside table, he wobbled to the armoire. Upon pulling open one door, he smiled at the dressing robe he found waiting for him. Not questioning it, he pulled it on and walked into the other room. Feeling better once he got his feet under him, Harry took some time to look around the main room.

“As I said, you are mentally connected to these rooms as well as the entry and exit door. You will be able to identify who wishes to enter your quarters and who exits them. Hogwarts protects her own, therefore no magic other than your own will work in these areas,” Helga said from her frame and Harry nodded to indicate he was listening.

He saw Dobby working away happily in the kitchen and smiled briefly before turning his attention elsewhere. Eyeing the mysterious and elaborate door frame, he squatted at the threshold to trace his fingertips over the intricate mosaic. The tile colors shifted as the snake danced along his fingers, seeming to slither in pleasure at his touch.

“That doorway leads to our private studies. Originally, we each had our own area but being as you are the sole heir for all four of us, Hogwarts combined our studies into one room. The portal is warded to your magical and mental signatures alone,” Salazar noted.

“What would happen if someone other than me tried to cross the threshold?” Harry asked, curiously.

“Really best not to wonder that,” Rowena replied with a dark smile.

Harry held her gaze for a moment before a shiver worked its way up his spine. Yeah, wasn’t going to wonder. Straightening, he gathered his Gryffindor courage and stepped forward. A sensation similar to traveling by Portkey, though more controlled, raced through him as he continued to walk. It was pitch black until it wasn’t then Harry stopped abruptly and stared in fascination at the room. He was certain he was now in a different part of the castle but still connected to the quarters somehow. No doubt just one more level of security the Founders and Hogwarts had implemented.

It was a large circular room lined completely with tall bookshelves. A floating chandelier illuminated the room with warm light while a large shadow from above moved slowly across the room. The ceiling was a glass dome, viewing the Black Lake from under the water. The shadow was a large fish swimming slowly past the dome. Harry craned his head back not caring that he felt his back pop. Despite being in the lake during the Tri-Wizard tournament, he hadn’t realized how much life was down here. Granted, at the time he was far more concerned with finishing his task and surviving than looking around. There was so much activity beneath the surface it almost boggled his mind.

“How is this possible?” he muttered, still turning slowly, hesitant to take his attention away from the ceiling.

“There are magical artifacts and tomes over every inch of this room. That energy has to be siphoned off somehow, it feeds into the glass itself as well as the stone columns that support the dome and the incredible pressure from the water,” Godric replied from a single frame mounted on an easel.

Harry paused to look at the frame and its occupant, nodding once in understanding before turning his gaze back to the ceiling for a brief moment. Shaking his head in amazement, he finally managed to start looking around the comfortable but sparsely decorated room. There was a large ornate desk with candles mounted on each of its upper corners. A single large rug spanned the room and plush couches with oval shaped coffee tables faced each other from opposite sides of the space. Having made his way around the room, Harry stopped behind the desk, pulling the chair out far enough to allow him to sit.

“Take your wand and tap on the desk, speaking whatever you wish to research. The room will provide the books,” Godric instructed as Harry pulled out his wand.

“Alright, then. Books on being an Incubus,” he stated clearly after firmly tapping his wand on the desk.

Harry had hardly lifted his wand when books started to appear atop the desk, yet he never saw them move from the shelves. Twisting in the chair, he scanned the shelves again but never saw any movement from the surrounding walls.

“Did you really think the books in this room were the only ones in our possession? These are only a small fraction of the collection. Our more selective pieces are hidden away for safe keeping,” the frame announced and Harry nodded once more while turning back to the desk.

“Let’s start then.”

Harry read through all the books the study had provided, stopping at one point to eat the stew Dobby had sent through the portal. Apparently house elves weren’t even allowed in the study which Harry could understand; Kreacher’s deception and his first interaction with Dobby stark in his memory. He took his time reading through Salazar’s journals on Incubi and was amazed at what sex magic could do. He could feed off any sort of arousal from the people around him; a strip club was a veritable buffet of power for him. Feeding on arousal of that quantity was good but feeding on an actual orgasm was even better. Leaning back in the chair, he looked over at the frame that now held Salazar.

“Why did the Ministry deem Incubi dangerous creatures?”

Salazar shrugged. “Same reasons you would expect. They began to fear something they did not understand.”

“That’s the typical narrow-minded thinking I’ve come to expect from the Ministry, but what am I going to do if it gets out that I’m an Incubus? They’ll try to lock me up or kill me,” Harry replied even as Salazar waved a pale hand and two new books appeared.

“Well, when the law was written concerning Incubi, a stipulation was written in the fine text. An Incubus from my direct line is exempt from all laws.”

As he spoke one of the books fell open, pages magically flipping until they stopped at a page with the current law and its details. After scanning the important section, Harry flipped back to see who had penned the law, raising an eyebrow at the last name of Slytherin. Shaking his head in amusement, he pushed aside that book and pulled the other one to him.

“And this one?”

Salazar flicked his fingers again and the pages flipped by. “We heard what Madam Pomfrey reported about the trial of the third student that attacked you. The four of us all agree that he shouldn’t be allowed to escape from punishment; especially since he nearly killed you in the halls of our Hogwarts.” The pages came to a halt once again as Salazar continued. “This law is one you can have your lawyer present and it will benefit the both of you. I think you will understand my meaning after reading my journals.”

A sly smile slowly spread across Harry’s lips as he read the law and subsequent cases that had used it. Oh yes, this would work perfectly.

(!)(!)(!)

Dobby woke Harry at half past seven as requested and he took a moment to lay in the large plush bed trying to remember how he got there. It all rushed to him in one deep breath and he sat up quickly to confirm it. Everything that he remembered had happened; he really was the Founders’ Heir. For once in his life, it seemed that things were starting to look up. Before he had fallen asleep the night before, Barrister Yacoub had replied back with her physical address, as well as Floo address, and a time when he could arrive. Knowing it could change at the drop of a wand, Harry still had a rough outline of how his day might go. Visiting with Yacoub was his first major step, after speaking with Hermione and Ron. During his coma, the Founders told him that several fellow students had tried to visit, only staying for a few minutes before Poppy either kicked them out or the next period began. His two friends had been some of the more regular visitors and he wanted them to know that he wasn’t dead or missing.

But clothing first. Slipping out of bed and walking to the armoire, he pulled open the door, casting an odd look at the empty single rack before turning his attention to the mirror on the back of the door. Rowena had enlightened him about his magical armoire and how it worked. Apparently, she had created an almost sentient armoire that could provide the perfect attire needed for any special occasion as well as take into account the weather and temperature.

Addressing the mirror, he spoke firmly. “I will be addressing a minor legal body today and need to look respectful. Not a full court room but minor proceedings.”

The mirror shimmered before an entire outfit was pictured including shoes. It was like looking at a mannequin but without the plastic body. The trousers were black and the shirt was an elegant collarless gray button down. A darker grey colored waistcoat went over that and then a black robe. When he didn’t deny or alter the selection, the clothing appeared hanging on the rack and he laughed at himself. Never again would he have to worry about dressing appropriately, he mused silently and took the pieces to drape over the bed before going to take a shower.

In short order, he was washed and dressed with his robe over his arm as he walked into the main room. Tossing the robe over the nearest chair he called for Dobby.

“Yes, Master Harry?”

Harry knelt in front of his friend and smiled brightly.

“Dobby, I need you to go and bring back Hermione and Ron. They should be on their way to breakfast but please do it slyly. I don’t want you to pop them away in the middle of a crowd. Once you bring them here, could you please get together a simple breakfast for us.”

The house elf nodded so hard his ears were flopping into his eyes as he disappeared with a crack. Laughing and shaking his head, Harry stood and went over to one of the windows that now looked out over the Forbidden Forest. His bedroom windows had a view of the Black Lake and he couldn’t decide which view he like more. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he rolled his shoulders and evaluated how he felt. The nagging pain in his left hand was gone; it had been there for so long he had gotten to the point of ignoring it. During his shower, he had noticed the various scars that dotted his body from his tussles with Dudley were gone as well; everything except for the iconic scar on his forehead. He’d have to ask the Founders why that one didn’t disappear like the others. He was taller than before and all morning he kept noticing how the extra few centimeters had changed his perception.

A crack prompted him to turn from the window to see Dobby standing with Ron and Hermione. Not waiting, the elf popped away again and Harry smiled at his two friends.

“Hey, Ron...Hermione.”

They both stared in shock before Hermione launched herself at Harry and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“Harry! You’re alright! We’ve been so worried, what with you disappearing from the Infirmary and then the Headmaster asking us about you. But then Dobby came and...and...and you’re taller,” she finished, finally realizing that something felt off.

She held his biceps and stepped back to look at him with a critical eye. Ron also came forward; standing beside his friend, they could see that now Harry actually had some height on Ron.

“What happened, mate? The last we heard you were in the infirmary and then Dumbledore was asking about you. Said you were gone and a danger to yourself and everyone at Hogwarts,” Ron said, glancing at Dobby when the elf returned with plates of food.

Harry rolled his eyes and motioned them over to the table.

“Well, I was attacked by Malfoy and two other Slytherins down in the dungeon. It was bad enough that I almost bled out before Madam Pomfrey found me.”

“Oh, Harry that’s horrible,” Hermione said aghast as she lowered herself into a seat.

The young witch looked horrified that one of her best friends had almost died and she hadn’t known about it. 

“How does that explain your change in height and looks?” Ron asked, reaching for the food.

Harry sat back, wondering briefly about how much to tell them. He knew his friends could keep a secret but he hated to put them in that position. Especially after what the Founders had told him about everything that happened in the castle that the students weren’t privy to.

“Before I tell you guys, you have to promise me something,” he said quietly, leaning forward and propping his elbows up on the table.

Ron stopped chewing and Hermione froze as she reached for the yogurt. Harry’s tone was one that they had only heard when they were going for the stone or something equally important and vital.

“Whenever you’re around them, do not look Snape or Dumbledore in the eyes. They can skim students’ minds for thoughts and do so without compunction. Promise me,” he said earnestly, looking between his two friends.

“I don’t think the Headmaster would do something like that, Harry. That’s offensive magic and illegal to do without the individual’s permission,” Hermione replied quietly, though not as fervently as she might have a few years earlier.

Harry shrugged, reaching for a piece of toast before going for the butter. “It’s written in fine print of the by-laws for the school’s Headmaster. He can do as he likes as long as it’s in the interest of the school and for the safety of students and staff. But he’s the one who deems it necessary or not and answers to no one about it.”

Hermione suddenly remembered the one time Dumbledore had spoken to her and Ron during the week that Harry had been in the infirmary. He never so much as implied that Harry was in serious condition. The only thing he seemed concerned about was whether Harry had been disappearing or seemed distracted by anything.

“Harry...does where we are have anything to do with what happened to you?”

Harry nodded silently, taking another bite of his toast and glancing down at his lap. Trying to calm his nerves, he took a deep breath then looked up again to meet the twin expectant looks on his friend’s faces.

“While I was in a coma, I met all four of the Founders. My blood had apparently seeped into the castle and awakened it to a degree. They told me they wanted to deem me their magical heir. When I awoke in the infirmary, I absorbed their magic from the castle and was brought here. These are the Founders’ Quarters, Hermione. The Founders of Hogwarts.”

The poor girl looked around nervously as if she expected one of the famed Founders to jump out and start dancing the jig; though Harry wouldn’t have put it past Helga to do just that. Ron simply stared at Harry with his mouth hanging open, a forkful of eggs frozen along its path to his gaping maw.

“So what are you going to do now?”

That question was so loaded, Harry was surprised they didn’t crash through the stone floor from the sheer weight of it. It could mean what was he going to do in the next hour. Or refer to the bigger picture, what was he going to do with this new knowledge. He clenched his teeth together and sat back in his chair, sipping his tea before leveling a determined glare at his friends.

“I’m going to stop letting Dumbledore make all the decisions for me. I will no longer be so passive about this war and my part in it nor will I continue to let people hurt me. I’m going to stop Tom and use my own plan to do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my new HP story. Please be kind. This is what has been distracting me from Held in Thrall; which will be updated in either the next few days or at most within the next two weeks. Hope you enjoy.


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